


Odds Are

by abstractconcept



Category: GetBackers
Genre: Crossdressing, Humor, M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-18
Updated: 2009-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 07:29:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractconcept/pseuds/abstractconcept
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginji loses a bet. Ban loses his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Odds Are

Ban trudged up the street toward the Honky Tonk, limping just a little. He'd _thought_ he was getting the better end of the deal when he took on that assignment. Ginji had lost yet another bet with Natsumi, and was stuck doing dishes. When the client had come in and said she needed her son's 'favorite' toy, which had flown over the fence into the cranky old lady next door's yard, it all sounded so easy—and a great way to get out of helping Ginji with the dishes.

Who knew the old bitch bred dobermans? Who knew that she kept a large broom on her porch for just such occasions, and relished running down the street whacking young men over the head with it?

Worst of all, who knew that the ladybug would break down two blocks from the Honky Tonk, costing almost the entire retrieval fee to get it towed and fixed? Ban had the _worst_ luck.

The door jingled as he walked in and looked over at Ginji.

Wow. Maybe his luck wasn't so bad after all.

“What the hell happened? Did you lose _another_ bet with Natsumi?”

Ginji looked contrite, and nodded mournfully. “Yeah, Ban-chan. She said if I won _this_ time, she'd let me off the hook for the dishes and I could go help you with the retrieval. But if I _lost_...”

Natsumi skipped out of the kitchen, beaming. “Look at me! I'm number two Get Backer, super lightning-powered Amano Ginji!” She posed in a tough fashion, showing off her green vest, WAY too large t-shirt, and khaki shorts.

“Number two?” Ginji whined. “But I'm as good as Ban-chan. We're partners!”

Natsumi smiled adorably, jabbed at Ginji with her hand, and zapped him.

“AUGH! What the heck was THAT?” Ginji yelped, backing away. His own electrical field seemed to be boosted now, and white light crackled around him.

“It's a taser!” Natsumi chirped. “So I'm really authentic!”

Ban sighed. “Okay, so Natsumi wanted to dress up as a Get Backer. But why are _you_ wearing a girl's school uniform?” he asked Ginji. “You can't possibly be wearing _hers._”

“She got a bigger friend to lend it to her,” Ginji began.

“And now he's Mizuki Natsumi, Honky Tonk waitress!” Natsumi bubbled. “We switched for today, all day!”

Ban looked down at the outfit, which was actually a bit different than Natsumi's. “What's with the tights?” he asked.

Natsumi noted, “I didn't want his legs to get cold.”

“But he usually wears shorts...” Ban protested rather half-heartedly. _Although these are cute, too,_ some horrifically insane part of his brain was saying.

“Ban-chan,” Ginji moaned nervously, “People are going to _see_ me like this.”

“It's okay,” Ban-chan assured him thoughtfully. “I know somewhere we can go that no one will notice you at all.”

“You can't change, though, Ginji!” Natsumi warned him. “A bet is a bet, and you have to wear that until closing time!”

 

OoOoOoOoO

  
At least the ladybug had been fixed quickly, and they had a bit of money left over. It was currently the only good thing about the whole damn day.

Ban tried to keep his eyes on the road, he really did. It was just that Ginji was no lady, and didn't know how to behave like one. He certainly wasn't good at keeping his legs together. And damn Ban's eyes, they seemed to keep sliding over to the soft fuzzy taboo of Ginji's inner thigh.

Ban licked his lips, and quickly jerked the wheel when Ginji squawked about the truck about to slam into them. Apparently, Ban's mind wasn't the only thing that was drifting. He hurriedly got out a cigarette and lit it, hoping it would calm his frayed nerves.

As they neared the club, Ban reflected that things would have been...easier...if Ginji actually somewhat resembled a girl. But...he _didn't._ All the fleecy tights and silky blouses and pleated skirts only seemed to enhance Ginji's boyishness. The broadness of Ginji's shoulders, the strength in the muscle of his calf, his large hands...Ban shook himself free of his thoughts. It would have been easier if Ginji looked girly in the getup. Then Ban wouldn't be so disturbed by the inappropriate erection that he was slowly developing.

 

OoOoOoOoO

  
The Pink Flamingo Club was one of those upscale, rather discreet places that catered to the modern cross-dresser. Ginji, of course, didn't even realize.

“Wow, Ban-chan! Look at all the pretty girls!”

“Boys, Ginji,” Ban replied. “They're all boys. Dressed like girls.”

Now Ginji looked surprised, disbelieving, and maybe a little scared. “No...really? Why?”

Ban shrugged. “Because they like to, I guess. Anyway, how the hell can you be shocked? You have friends that cross-dress.”

Ginji flushed. “Um, yeah, I guess sometimes Kazuki does wear girl's clothes, but...”

“Not like this,” Ban finished smugly. Not with make up and lacy stockings. Not with tight little skirts, and a definite bump and grind to his walk.

As they sat at the bar, the waitress paused to pinch Ginji's cheek. “Aren't you cute?” she fussed. “This must be your first time. Don't worry, you'll get better at it!”

Ginji threw Ban a helpless look, and Ban had to laugh.

They were just going to eat some peanuts, have a beer, kill some time. Ban hadn't counted on Ginji's unearthly charisma. By the end of the hour, Ginji had sweet-talked the bartender into free drinks, free food, and a free room for the evening. A free bedroom. Ban didn't think Ginji realized what he'd been offered, or what he'd so blithely accepted.

Sure enough, when they wandered upstairs, Ginji enthusiastically went on about how they could have a nap--in a real bed!—and he wouldn't even wrinkle his skirt. He threw himself onto the bed, making entirely too-happy noises—whimpers and moans.

Ban swallowed hard. He could see right up Ginji's skirt from this angle, and those weren't tights--they weren't tights at _all_. They were those stocking thingies that went up above the thigh and were kept up by that odd arrangement of pulleys and straps. Or whatever. Ban wasn't familiar with the intricacies of women's intimates. He idly wondered what sort of underpants Ginji was wearing.

“Ban-chan?” Ginji asked, rolling over and sitting up a bit. “Aren't you going to get in bed with me?”

A groan escaped Ban's lips. It was too much. Just _too much._ No man should be made to endure this sort of thing. Ginji blinked at him, and he raised his hand to scratch his head, his shirt pulling loose from the waistband of the skirt, the fabric riding up, showing a peek of Ginji's slender, smooth stomach.

That did it. Ban launched himself onto the bed with a growl, relishing the way Ginji's eyes went wide. “Ban-chan, what are you—omph,” Ginji said as he was shoved down. Ban stared at him for a long moment, hesitating uncertainly, before pressing a kiss to Ginji's lips. Ginji stopped breathing for a moment—they both did—and then his hand came up, softly cupping the back of Ban's neck.

So far, so good. Cautiously, Ban sucked a little harder, pulling Ginji's lip into his mouth. It was soft and warm, and now very wet. Ginji sucked in a sharp breath, and Ban backed off, letting go of Ginji's flesh. “All right?”

“Oh, yes, Ban-chan,” Ginji responded in a delightfully out-of-breath sort of way. “I really want this a lot. I've been waiting for soooo long for you to do this. I'm all right for sure.”

Ban kissed him again, slowly, smugly. He'd wondered, before. There were times when they were on assignment, and Ginji looked at him a certain way, or their hands brushed, or he'd put an arm around Ginji, and there was no protest. There were pauses in conversation, mouthfuls of tension, moments of opportunity that burst in his palm like overripe fruit, lost seemingly forever. Ginji's sweet little tongue-tip quested out, and Ban shivered. Maybe not lost forever. Maybe they _could_ be recovered, those precious opportunities.

He snaked a hand down, reaching for Ginji's leg, rubbing the downy fabric. With infinite care, admirable patience, he caressed his partner's body, working his way up under the skirt, flicking light touches across the juncture of hip and thigh. Ginji's tongue was doing more than probing, now, was lashing against his own, sliding smoothly along teeth and tongue and the roof of his mouth.

Ban was grinding against the bed, eating up the little distressed sounds coming from Ginji's throat. He placed the flat of his hand on Ginji's ass, feeling silk and lace and strong muscle. With a slight gasp, he jerked away from Ginji, their mouths parting with a wet noise. He flipped up the hem of the skirt. “Holy fuck,” he whispered.

Ginji flushed and tried to pull the skirt back down. “Ban-chan,” he protested, his voice thick with embarrassment. Ban blocked his hand, yanking it up again.

“Don't--damn, I mean, wow, I mean--_hot_,” was all Ban could say coherently of the lacy panties that snugly held Ginji's throbbing prick trapped against his body. They were small enough that the head of Ginji's cock poked out the top, red and forming a drop of pre-come at the slit before Ban's eyes. “Guh,” he added. He reached out, hooking his fingers into the lace and pulling at the panties, but Ginji grabbed his wrist.

“Oh, I can't,” he moaned. “I can't take them off. It's part of the deal.”

Ban looked at him incredulously. “You can't tell me you still care about that stupid _bet?_” he demanded.

Ginji bit his lip, making Ban rock against the mattress in desperation. “It wouldn't be _honorable,_” Ginji whined.

Ban gritted his teeth. “Fine. Fine. They're nice panties. I can work around the panties,” he said. “Roll over onto your stomach,” he ordered, getting off the bed and going in search of lubrication. There was a small tube in the nightstand, in the vein of complimentary shampoo. _Good_ customer service, really.

Ginji was peering at Ban over his shoulder, looking innocent and needy and scrumptious. Ban leapt back onto the bed, enjoying the way the bouncing springs caused Ginji's cheeks to jiggle, ever so little. “This'll hurt a little,” he warned, pushing the panties to the side enough that he could press a wet finger to Ginji's pucker. It swallowed him to the first knuckle, and he gently pressed the rest of the way in, feeling the hot suction and incredible squeezing of Ginji's muscles. “Push out,” he whispered, beginning to move, stroking Ginji from the inside.

He took his time, searching out the spot that would make this easier on Ginji. He knew he'd found it when he elicited a cry and a sharp jolt of electricity. “Hey! No lighting, you damned electric eel!” he rebuked.

“S--sorry, Ban-chan,” Ginji croaked. The flash of dark, desperate, defenseless eyes more than made up for the minor sting. Ginji's cheeks were flushed, his lips bitten to a dark pink, and Ban was just about insane with desire. He quickly added another finger, loving the way Ginji's eyes rolled back in his head.

“Soooo goooood,” he moaned, scissoring his fingers, stretching at that wonderful ring of muscle. “God, Ginji, I can't wait anymore.”

Ginji hummed in encouragement, thrusting back against him. “Ban-chan,” he crooned, hips jerking now, working out a rhythm that Ban was pining to be part of. “Want more--want you--want it--I don't know--I don't know,” Ginji babbled.

Patience could take a flying leap. Ban slid his fingers out, replacing them with the head of his cock, waiting just long enough to be sure Ginji was aware of what was happening, and wasn't protesting. Ban sank into Ginji's heat, and patience took a flying leap. He grabbed Ginji's hips, slamming deeply inside, feeling electricity coursing through them both, connecting them like a wire running from heart to his cock, inside of Ginji, up to Ginji's heart, Ginji's soul. Ban's tongue tasted coppery, fuzzy with the current.

“Oh, fuck, _Ban-chan_,” Ginji howled.

Ban's heart stuttered. He'd never heard Ginji swear before, and never expected it to sound so dirty, so obscene, so utterly _fantastic._ “Ginji,” he managed, his voice coarse with lust. He reached one hand under Ginji, fingers feathering over the prominent bulge in the lacy underpants, tracing that delicious outline of cock.

Ginji froze for one long moment. One of his arms flew up, twisting back around Ban's neck, holding him close, and the other hand clutched Ban's hip, fingers biting down. Ginji's entire balance depended entirely on his partner. He came, spilling thick ropes of seed into the inside of his skirt.

Ban hissed. His pace increased, working more deeply into his partner with every thrust, wanting nothing more rut his way through the end of the world. Dimly, he was aware of Ginji collapsing onto his arms, his ass still high in the air as he let Ban finish fucking him. One of Ginji's big, square hands encased his own, the one that had been covering Ginji's cock when he'd come, the one now dribbling Ginji's seed.

Ginji pulled Ban's hand up to his mouth, his tongue flicking out to lap at Ban's knuckles, cleaning himself from Ban's hand as gently as a kitten. Ban stared down at his partner, at those lips still wet and swollen from kisses as they wrapped around his fingertip, suckling. Ban's voice was deep as he called Ginji's name, and he arched, pounded, spent himself in Ginji.

When he came to, Ginji was cleaning him with a cloth from the bathroom. “Whassat?” he muttered. He fumbled blindly until he found his cigarettes, and lit one, inhaling deeply.

“I think you _fainted,_ Ban-chan,” Ginji informed him. “I was just cleaning up. I did the best I could with the skirt, but...” he trailed off, face pink.

“I did NOT faint,” Ban protested muzzily. Maybe he had. “What time is it?”

“Time to head back to the Honky Tonk!” Ginji told him brightly. Lightning buzzed and crackled around him.

Ban moaned and rolled his eyes. Ginji gave new meaning to the term afterglow.

 

OoOoOoOoO

 

Ban slunk into the diner behind Ginji, who still had an annoying bounce in his step, despite the fact that he was dishevelled and debauched, that he had a love bite blooming beneath one ear, and that he reeked of sex.

 

Ban was fairly sure that Paul was going to tease them. But Paul wasn’t there. There was just Natsumi, getting ready to close up. Ban thanked his lucky stars. Natsumi wouldn’t even realize what had happened.

 

He walked up to the counter, ready to smarm his way into a cup of coffee, when he realized the young waitress wasn’t even paying attention to him.

 

“Ginji!” she gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. “You _didn’t! _And in Keiko’s uniform, too!”

 

Ginji only smiled broadly. “I told you so. Now you owe us dinner for a week!”

 

Ban turned furiously on his partner. “_What? _What did you do? Ginji! What did you do?”

 

Ginji looked at least a little abashed. “I was just trying to win one little bet, that’s all. And Natsumi bet that I couldn’t get you to—er, kiss me,” he said.

 

“Kiss you?” Ban scowled suspiciously at the angel-faced blond, whose eyes were as large and round with naivety as possible.

 

“Right, Ban-chan. So I figured if I dressed up like a girl, then maybe you would.”

 

Ban shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t have to dress up like a girl, stupid,” he said.

 

Ginji flashed him an adoring smile. “And anyway, I won us free dinners for a whole week! So you can’t be _too _mad at me. Right?”

 

Ban reluctantly nodded. “Yeah, free dinners. That’s pretty good. I guess I’m not that angry, then. As long as you don’t do anything that stupid again.”

 

“Of course not, Ban-chan!” Ginji promised quickly. “Hey, Natsumi, can I have my clothes back, now?” He followed her into the back room, still talking softly. “Except I think the skirt needs to be washed, and I’d better hide the panties I bought. Boy, Ban-chan really seemed to like them!”

 

“I told you so!” Natsumi said in her gigglish voice. “Cosmopolitan says _any _man will have a hard time keeping his hands off a pair of black lace panties!”

 

Ginji snickered, too. “I can’t believe we got away with it! Everyone thinks we’re so darn innocent.”

 

Ban felt fury beginning to boil in his veins. He was just about to roar for Ginji when his partner continued speaking.

 

“Now, how do I get him to do it again?”

 

Ban heard the flutter of magazine pages, and then Natsumi spoke again. “Oh, here’s a good one; _How to seduce him on the job—give him the best oral sex he’ll ever have!_”

 

“Let me see!” Ginji responded, with enthusiasm.

 

Ban slowly shut his mouth, which had gone dry. He took out another cigarette, tapping it against the counter. Ginji really deserved a good chewing out…but maybe it could wait until after the next mission.


End file.
